


Otabek Altin's Guide on How to Say No to Yuri Plisetsky

by asukaJude, sarahyyy



Series: the C verse! [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Translation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 07:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10680894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asukaJude/pseuds/asukaJude, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahyyy/pseuds/sarahyyy
Summary: Five times Otabek says no to Yuri, and the one time he doesn't.





	Otabek Altin's Guide on How to Say No to Yuri Plisetsky

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [奥塔别克·阿尔京的如何拒绝尤里·普利谢茨基指南](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10347375) by [asukaJude](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asukaJude/pseuds/asukaJude). 



> Notes from the Author: This is a sequel to "The C Words", and features coffee-shop owner!Otabek and figure skater!Yuri being domestic. They're both adults in this fic.

**1\. Never Be Soft-hearted**  
It is as if Otabek wakes up with a start.

Not by sound, not by accident, not by light — it’s still early, and it’s pitch black outside. Rather, it’s his own biological clock, born of years of waking up early to start operating the coffee shop, that has drawn him out from sleep. He must’ve been in a more restful sleep than usual, which is why he feels like he was startled into wakefulness.

And the reason for his restful sleep still lies curled beside him, unmoving. Under the light streaming into the room from the lamppost outside, Yuri’s blond hair looks almost silvery where its splayed out over the pillow. He looks harmless with his eyes shut, and lips slightly parted.

Otabek watches Yuri for a moment before he carefully moves Yuri’s arm gently off himself, and sits up.

Immediately, he realises that he was being careful for nothing. The moment he sits up, Yuri makes soft noises of discontentment, shifts around a little, and curls his arm back around Otabek, grip tight around his waist this time. Otabek tries to gently pry Yuri’s arm off him again, but all it does is to make Yuri hold onto him tighter.

Otabek lets out a soundless breath of resignation, and lowers his head to press a kiss to Yuri’s forehead.

Yuri’s brows furrow a little, and mumbles, “...stay…”

“I can’t,” Otabek says while trying, for the third time now, to get out of Yuri’s grip. It works a little better this time, because he takes note to duck to the side a little when Yuri comes grabbing for him again. “I have to open up at the shop. Go back to sleep.”

His words don’t placate Yuri. Yuri still shifts around under the covers, trying to reach for Otabek, who keeps shifting out of hold. At last, Yuri settles for grabbing tightly onto the corner of Otabek’s sleepshirt, and lets out a loud yawn before shuts his eyes again, mumbling, “...don’t go…”

This is basically life’s greatest challenge to Otabek, and it repeats daily.

Otabek, however, has faced many challenges in life; all he has to do is to keep holding onto his principles, no matter how tough it may be.

“Sorry, Yura.” Otabek reaches out to gently caress Yuri’s face, and tries his hardest not to think about how _adorable_ Yuri looks when he leans into the touch. “I really have to go. How else am I supposed to get ready to make you your latte in two hours, hmm?”

This seems to finally reason with Yuri — he continues mumbling sleepily but he does loosen his grip on Otabek’s shirt before rolls over to his other side, tugging the duvet along with him. Otabek takes this as silent permission to leave, and quickly slides off the bed to wash up for work.

As he brushes his teeth, he thinks that if this carries on, he’s definitely going to be late for work one day. Especially since Yuri sometimes follows Otabek out of bed sleepily into the bathroom, dressed only in a t-shirt, plasters himself onto Otabek’s bare back, unspeaking and unmoving, and just stays there for awhile, before he makes his way back groggily into bed — those times, it’s really, really hard for him to want to be punctual to work.

But he has to persist.

 

 **2\. Be Adamant**  
Yuri feels like he’s floating.

His limbs feel like jelly, and it’s warm all around him. All he sees before him is a white, foggy mess, and ha, if this is what it feels like to float among clouds, then it’s not half bad, to be honest.

Right, he should try to channel this feeling for his short program in the upcoming season.

This would work well with the impressionist piece he’s chosen. A soft, gentle melody, sliding like water across the keys on a piano. And Yuri will follow suit, raise his legs just so, and slide across-

A hand grabs hold of his leg, and gently stuffs it back under the duvet.

And just like that, Yuri falls from the clouds into darkness. It’s still hot, but he can’t seem to open his eyes, and his throat feels like it’s on fire. Nevertheless, he still has to get to the rink, has to jot down what that feeling from before was like-

“Whatever it is you’re thinking of doing, no. Lie down, and don’t move. I’ll do it for you,” Otabek says from somewhere above him.

“I want to go to the rink,” Yuri replies hoarsely.

“You have a 39℃ fever.”

“So?”

“So, you’re confined to bed-rest. It’s a good thing the shop is closed today. I’ll go get you a doctor in a bit. Are you thirsty? Your throat will feel better if you drink some warm water.”

Otabek rarely says this much, Yuri thinks, trying his hardest to open his eyes. The room is lit only by the lamp on the bedside table, and his boyfriend is sitting to his side on the bed, mug in hand, removing a straw from its plastic wrapping, putting it into the mug, and bringing it to rest by the corner of Yuri’s lips.

“Come on.”

Yuri takes two long sips. The water seems to have calmed the heat in his throat, he feels like he’s better already.

“I’ve drank the water. I want to go to the rink now.”

Otabek sets the mug on the bedside table, and turns back to look at Yuri.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Why?”

“Because you have to listen to me this time.”

“...why?”

“Because,” Otabek sighs, and tucks Yuri back into the blankets properly, “you refused to listen to me yesterday, and insisted on wearing that thin coat out. And look at what happened to you today.”

“I don’t need to be in bed.” Yuri feels the beads of sweat making way down his temple; his whole body is sweaty, it’s gross. “I feel horrible, stop wrapping me up in blankets. Victor said he skated in Moscow with a 40℃ fever, and still won gold-”

Otabek silences Yuri with a hand over his mouth —and ah, his palm, slightly calloused, and almost chilly on Yuri’s face, feels good— and leans down close to Yuri, his breath steady against Yuri’s ear.

“ _Fuck Victor_ ,” he says, voice deep. “You’re going to stay here, in bed, until I tell you that you can leave, do you hear me, Yuratchka? I’m going to ring your coach up for you now, give me his number.”

It takes Yuri a long time to recover from that, and to feel around for his phone to pass to Otabek.

“Wow, tough guy,” he says shakily as he watches Otabek pull up his contacts. “Have I ever told you that you’re really hot when you curse?”

Otabek spares an amused glance at him, before he finds the number he’s looking for, and dials it.

“Don’t just say it when you’re ordering me about,” Yuri says, and wonders if his intentions are clear to Otabek.

Otabek brings the phone to his ear, and then reaches out to pinch Yuri’s face slightly. “Focus on recovering, and I’ll say it whenever you want me to.”

 

 **3\. Talk in Circles**  
Beyond circumstances that have him being either half-asleep or sick, Yuri always appears fresh and professional when he comes into the coffee shop — his personality doesn’t allow for him to be comfortable with showing much affection in public.

Which is a good thing, because Otabek is also not that kind of person.

Besides, Otabek really loves the tiny details in their relationship that are only known to the both of them, like how, for example, Otabek has lost the habit of hiding behind the counter, with his head bent down, focused on making coffee, and now looks up warmly whenever Yuri comes in. It’s a look that is understated, but never fails to make Yuri blush lightly before looking away, and greeting him softly.

Not today, however. Otabek notices that Yuri looks frazzled from the moment he pushed open the front door; his usual relaxed posture has been replaced by a scowl, as if he’s busy being annoyed or irritated by something, and it takes another look before Otabek notices that there are two people following behind Yuri.

...oh.

Although he’s never been properly introduced to them, Otabek and Leo both know who the two newcomers are. The taller man with the platinum hair carries himself with liveliness, whereas the bespectacled Asian man by him appears to look shy.

Yuri looks awkward as he makes his way to the counter, and that is only eased when Otabek flashes a small smile at him.

“I’ll still have a latte-”

He hasn’t even finished his sentence when the silver-haired man from behind him continues, “I’ll have an Americano, only sugar-”

_Ah, so that was your order._

Leo acknowledges the order, and the man continues with, “And my darling Yuuri will have the same, but only with milk. Thank you!”

The name makes Otabek look up, just in time to see Yuri make a face.

“Yes, we have the same name. That’s why I call him Katsudon-”

“Yurio, that’s very rude of you. _Your father_ is very disappointed-”

“I am not your son, and Yurio is not my name, you old silver bastard!” Yuri shoots back, and then very reluctantly tells Otabek and Leo, “I’ve told you guys about him before, but this is Victor Nikiforov-”

“Hello!” Victor says with a cheerful wave.

“And beside him is Katsu- _ki_ …Yuuri.”

“Umm, hello. Thank you for taking good care of Yurio,” Yuuri says, dipping into a slight bow.

Without waiting for Yuri to start protesting at his nickname, Victor, who had been glancing between Otabek and Leo consecutively before his gaze settled on Otabek, says, “So this is the man who has been making our Yurio alternate between losing his sleep and losing his appetite-”

“- _who said that happened_!”

“Hello.” Whether it’s out of deference to societal politeness, or how Yuri’s acting right now, Otabek feels like he should be the one to introduce himself. “I’m Otabek Altin, Yuri’s boyfriend.”

His words seem to stun reactions out of everyone — Yuri is gaping, stunned at Otabek’s directness; Victor looks like he’s about to melt, and has both his hands on his heart, proclaiming, “ _Oh, young love!_ ”; Yuuri adjusts his glasses, eyes twinkling as he flashes an approving smile at Otabek; Leo, of course, starts giggling.

Otabek takes this all in stride, and continues being a professional — he doesn’t say anything more, just pours out the Americanos for Victor and Yuuri, and sets decorative mint leaves on each of their cups.

“I hate them both,” Yuri says when both Victor and Yuuri have gone off to find a seat with their coffees. “Why are you being nice to them? You should’ve added weird stuff into their coffees.”

“I have a very good reputation,” Otabek murmurs, not looking up at Yuri. He’s focused on drawing a foam-cat squinting its eyes. “Besides, they care about you.”

“Like hell.”

“......”

“...then, next time at least switch out the sugar for salt in the old silver bastard’s coffee.”

“...I’ll think about it.”

Yuri seems pleased at the words. He reaches out to take his coffee, fingers brushing against Otabek’s slightly, before he joins his rink-mates.

Otabek doesn’t tell him that the truth is, he makes a very good salted caramel coffee too.

 

 **4\. When the time calls for it, Act Cute**  
Otabek shakes his head, and keeps shaking it to make his point.

Yuri’s lips have tightened into a straight line.

The cat in his arms shivers a little. It’s a tiny kitten, about two months old, born of the stray cat near Yuri’s rink. Yuri’d found it abandoned today. It was raining and cold, and he’d hear it meowing out pitifully from the shrubs.

_...anyone with a heart would’ve brought it home, right?!_

As Yuri is complaining soundlessly, the kitten shivers again. Otabek seems to have realised that the kitten must be freezing, because he says, gentler this time, “Let’s give it a shower and take it to the vet tomorrow for a checkup. I’ll see if I have any friends who are willing to adopt-”

“Why can’t we adopt it ourselves?” He thinks his tone is calm enough.

“Because I have to work, and I won’t have the time to take care of a pet-”

“Then I’ll take care of him myself!”

“You don’t have the time for it too, Yuri,” his boyfriend says matter-of-factly. “Just this week, you’ve had to extend your practice hours three times, and it’s by a few hours every time.”

“I can take it with me to the rink.”

“It was originally a stray from there, Yuri. It’ll run away, and then there’ll be no difference if you keep it or not.”

“Then I’ll keep it at home, teach it how to eat and use the litter-”

“That’s not the problem.” Otabek rubs at his brow.

“That what’s the problem? You don’t like cats?” Yuri’s voice is raised towards the end.

“I do-”

“What's the problem then? ”

“Sometimes _liking_ something isn't enough by itself-”

“ I thought it was for _us_!” Yuri yells, and then storms into the bathroom, huddling the cat close to himself.

 

Yuri sets a basin of hot water on the ground, and coxes the crying kitten into it. The little thing, true to its nature of being afraid of water, scratches at him. Yuri ends up having to hold the kitten firmly down and splashing water and soap on it, all the while making sure that he doesn’t drown the poor thing.

It’s a messy job, but his mind lingers on the fight from before.

Him and Otabek have their fair share of problems. Of course they do. He used to think that the biggest problem between them would be the confession bit, but Otabek’s accidental words took care of the problem. Yuri thought that after that, their relationship would go on smoothly, but in reality, they stumble and clash quite a bit. The differences in their family backgrounds, habits, and lifestyles are so dissimilar, and when they started living together, it was as if they were two cactuses being repotted together — they knock into one another, push against one another, and jab at one another.

When Otabek tells him to pick up after the clothes he has messily thrown all over the sofa, or when he bugs at Otabek to eat junk food, or when Otabek bans him from watching trashy soaps through the night, or when he saves a stranded kitten and Otabek refuses to let him keep it, he can’t help but to second-guess the strength of their relationship-

 

The door to the bathroom opens and closes, and he feels more than he sees Otabek walking around him to squat before him, taking over the kitten in both his hands for Yuri.

 _I’m not going to talk to him_ , Yuri swears to himself, turning to reach for a towel.

Right then, from beside him, Otabek starts speaking in a manner Yuri would never in a million years expect from him. “Kitty to Yuri Plisetsky,” Otabek says slowly. “Kitty to Yuri Plisetsky. Do you copy?”

Yuri turns back so quickly that he almost slips and falls onto the ground. Was he...imagining things? Is Otabek trying to talk to him through the cat?

Disregarding Yuri’s stunned expression, Otabek calmly takes over the towel from him, wiping the kitten down, and turning the kitten to face Yuri.

“Kitty to Yuri Plisetsky. I found out that Otabek Altin is very careful when it comes to relationships.” He waves the kitten’s paws in Yuri’s direction. “Once he decides to go into it, he’ll see it through the end. But after serious consideration, he still doesn’t think that he’ll be able to be a good owner to me, and that’s why he wants to help me find a more suitable home. Regarding this matter, I understand him completely.”

Yuri can’t hold it in anymore, he turns away from Otabek a little to let out a muffled laugh, which only grows the more he thinks about the situation. He ends up unable to stop himself from leaning into Otabek, laughing into his shoulder.

They’re both cactuses, prickly and impenetrable on the outside, but soft on the inside; they have at least this much in common.

 

 **5\. Ignore Temptation**  
“Let’s do it.”

Otabek looked up quickly from over his glasses.

Yuri is kneeling before him on their bed, clearly in high spirits.

“No.” He turns his gaze back down, and finds his place in the book. He flips a page.

“I think-”

“You’ve already said that you think I look good in glasses,” Otabek says casually. “Thanks.”

“I’m not talking about this.”

“It’s still _no_ , no matter what you say. Come to bed.”

“I’d like to come and _bed you_.”

“You can come to bed with me. _Just_ to sleep.”

“I feel like you’re losing interest in me.”

Otabek looks up at Yuri again, and reaches a hand out to boop his nose. “That’s not it. Come on, sleep.”

“What is wrong with you?” Yuri shifts a little, extending a leg to rub along Otabek’s leg. “Can’t get hard? Do you need me to help you out with-”

“Yura.” Otabek sets his book aside helplessly, plucks the glasses off his face, and catches Yuri’s wandering leg in his hand. “You’re going away tomorrow for the tournament. You’ll be on the plane for more than ten hours.”

“That’s why I wanted to celebrate-”

“What is there to celebrate when the competition hasn’t even started?”

“...how about to wish me good luck? Can’t we do it once to give me the luck I need to win gold?”

“You’ll end up sore, and will probably curse me through your flight.”

“I’m happy to be sore. I’m still young, all I need to recover is a good night’s sleep. Can’t you just fulfil my wishes here?” Yuri bugs at him.

“But _I’m_ not happy for you to be sore.” Otabek holds out his arms to Yuri. “C’mere.”

Yuri glares at him.

“Come here,” Otabek says again.

Yuri keeps glaring at him, but Otabek remains unmoved. Finally, the blond relents, letting out a loud harrumph before he leans into Otabek’s embrace.

“I hate you.”

“When you come back with the gold medal,” Otabek says, running his fingers lightly through Yuri’s hair, “we can talk about this again. No pressure, though. We can talk about this even if you don’t win.”

“ _Ha_.”

 

 **+1. Special cases should be treated in a special way.**  
What the Grand Prix Final means to Otabek is that, inclusive of the time spent travelling, he won’t be able to see Yuri for at least a week. He sets his pad at a corner of the countertop in the shop, mutes it, and glances at it while he’s making coffee to keep an eye on the competition through live streams.

Leo is most pleased with this, and even wants his IT-savvy boyfriend to come and upgrade their internet connection. “My best friend is madly in love! Do you know how rare this is? Almost as rare as an asteroid impact! I have to help him, Guang Hong!” he yells into the phone excitedly, as Otabek ignores him.

The truth is… It’s okay even if he can’t see Yuri, he thinks. Endless imagination develops when distance comes into play; everything you reach out for turns hazy in your mind, sweet but blurry. For him, Yuri isn’t the star of a sport headline in the news, but rather someone who sits atop the countertop at the shop and yawns as he waits for coffee, someone who contorts his legs into all sorts of weird angles as he stretches while complaining to him in the nights, someone who he shares his earphones as they take a drive on his bike with when they occasionally have the same rest days.

Of course, Yuri’s performance on ice is also one of his favourite memories. He’s been to the rink Yuri trains at to watch a few times. Victor tells him that whenever he’s there, “Yuri is always more at ease. If he performs like this at the finals, his presentation score is going to be off the charts.”

But Otabek’s love for Yuri’s skating has nothing to do with scores, skills, or results — Yuri himself is enough to keep Otabek’s eyes on him. He sheds his defences and innocence when he glides across the ice, keeping himself sharp as he flawlessly presents his best skills. And his gaze holds none of the usual humour, sarcasm, or shyness, but rather a deep sense of focus; one could drown in the look in his eyes.

“You have the eyes of a soldier,” Otabek tells Yuri when he takes a break.

Yuri blinks at him, and tilts his head back to drink from his bottle.

“Thanks,” he says simply, setting down the bottle, and wiping at his mouth.

 

But now, with thousands of miles between them, all he has of Yuri is his imagination. Is he nervous? Will he perform well? How will those eyes of a soldier take in the audience and his opponents? These are all up to his imagination.

 

This, however, does not mean that Otabek doesn’t act uncharacteristically on the day of the finals. Because of the time difference, the match starts at 1 a.m., and he stays up through the night, watching Yuri struggle and fight among so many competitors. When Yuri’s final score comes out, Otabek has to bite at his fists to keep from yelling out and disturbing the neighbours.

Even though he knows that Yuri is going to be bogged down by heaps of things after the competition, and would likely not have a chance to check his phone, Otabek still sends him a text:

_Congratulations. Come home safe._

Yuri doesn’t reply, just as Otabek expected.

 

Wake up, open up, go home. Rinse and repeat.

Two more days, and he’ll be able to see Yuri.

 

At 11 p.m., just after he’s finished taking a bath, and has exhaustedly crawled under the covers, ready to let sleep take over him, someone rings at his door. Incessantly.

Otabek takes a slight moment to stretch before he climbs out of bed and heads for the door.

On the other side of the door, with circles under his eyes, his hair a complete mess, and his luggage trailing behind him, stands Yuri Plisetsky.

Otabek remains stunned for a moment, before his brain takes over of his vocal functions, and blurts out the first thing he thinks of. “Did you forget your keys?”

“It’s in the suitcase, or somewhere in my backpack. Fuck knows. I can’t be bothered looking for it.” Yuri steps into the apartment, closes the door behind him, and tosses his luggage to a side. He reaches under his collar to tug out a long silk ribbon. “Look.”

The gold medal, sparkling under the light, dangles from the ribbon.

“I sent you a congratulatory text,” Otabek says. “You probably didn’t get-”

“I’m not talking about the text,” Yuri interrupts. “C’mon, carry out your promise.”

“What promi- Oh.”

Otabek’s lips twitch.

“Did you fly back alone because of this? Yakov is going to kill you. Going to kill both of us, probably.”

“Whatever, who the fuck cares? Quickly now.” Yuri pushes at Otabek’s chest with one hand. “You have a world champion who is very displeased with you before you right now, and all you need to do is to carry out all of his demands immediately, understood?”

“All your demands?” Otabek asks as he backs into their room, and falls onto the bed when Yuri pushes at him.

“ _All_ my demands,” Yuri says wickedly. He shifts a little, and then gathers both of Otabek’s hands, securing them tightly to the headboard with the gold medal ribbon. “Or else I’m going to come back with the team next time.”

“Scary.” Otabek looks up at him, and Yuri bites at his lip.

 

He wakes up with a start again.

No noise, no light, not by accident. It’s all his biological clock’s fault.

Outside, alongside the light from the lampposts, the moon shines brightly through. The mess that is their bedroom is clear under the light — Yuri’s jacket and his t-shirt strewn on the ground, the gold medal hanging limply from the headboard, its silk ribbon all crumpled. The clock he keeps on the cupboard facing the bed shows that it’s time for him to wake up now.

He tries to turn, to no avail, because on his other side, Yuri has him pressed down tightly with his arms and his head. At the first sign of movement from Otabek, Yuri’s grip on him turns tighter.

“......don’t……go……”

He isn’t sure if Yuri is only talking in his sleep, but Otabek is very awake when he makes his decision — he feels around for his phone, and then pulls up a chat message window to text Leo:

_I’m going to be late to work today. Can you open up first?_

Leo’s reply comes within seconds.

_Holy shit, has hell frozen over?_

Otabek is still considering his reply when another message lights up his screen.

_Oh~ ~ ~ I get it I get it I get it!_

And then another.

_Someone must have come home~ ~ ~_

_Have fun~ ~ ~ ~ I am very happy for you, bro. Maybe you shouldn’t even come in today ~ ~ ~_

Otabek rolls his eyes, and replies “ _…... know when to stop._ ” before he switches off his phone.

He returns to Yuri’s embrace, and indulges in a rare return to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I had so much fun translating this, and asukajude was so helpful in the entire process. I definitely didn't do the original prose justice, so if you can, check out the original fic in Chinese! You can find asukajude [here on Tumblr](http://asukajude.tumblr.com/) too! :))))
> 
> As usual, I am [here on Tumblr](http://sarah-yyy.tumblr.com/), if you want to say hi, or if you want to scream about otayuri! I know I haven't been writing much lately, but I HAVE A WIP THAT IS ALMOST COMPLETE AND READY TO BE POSTED. So. Fingers crossed.


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